Target
by WriteOnForever
Summary: Her target is a child. Takes place during the five-year gap.


Disclaimer: All rights go to DC. Obviously.

Soul I say, to name the smoke-beings flung in constellations

across the night sky of this city and cities to come.

_Alabanza_ I say, even if God has no face.

~Martín Espada, "Alabanza: In Praise of the Local 100"

**Target**

Esperanza Martinez. Age ten.

_(A baby, really. Just a baby.)_

Latina. Ebony hair, shoulder length. Light brown eyes.

_(Such a pretty girl.)_

Daughter of Marcus Martinez. Government official. Enemy of the Shadows.

_(The daughter suffers the father's sins. Of course.)_

Mother deceased.

_(She's all he has left.)_

She is to be terminated.

Jade stares at that final word, dark and angry on the page. After a moment, she mouths it, the syllables, heavy like rocks and tasting of poison, dropping from her tongue. Her eyes sting slightly, but she convinces herself that it's due to the color contacts she's wearing.

The amount of energy she put into this job is staggering, all considering. Two hours in the crappy bathroom in her crappy apartment transformed her into a Caucasian woman with blue eyes. She hadn't gone all-out—wigs annoyed her to no end—but she's managed to straighten her hair, meaning that there was no way anyone would connect the dots.

Such elaborate measures are reserved for high-ranking targets, but she had no choice but to make an exception. Straying away from her preferred killing techniques, she opted for poison—potassium chloride, to be specific, the final drug in the lethal injection process, the one which caused rapid, painless death. Making such a purchase as Jade Nguyen was not an option; neither was buying the NyQuil Zzz from the local Rite Aid or the Happy Meal from the McDonalds down the road.

She thinks of the small red box, so lonely and out of place, the only splash of color against the white walls of her hideout. It shouldn't be there. She shouldn't be here, standing in front of the elementary school. Esperanza shouldn't be a target.

_(But nothing in life is ever as it should be.)_

A sudden surge of children emerges from the front doors, laughing loudly, practically running down the stairs, onto buses or into parent's arms. For safety.

_(But not her.)_

Finally, she spots the fourth-grader, trailing behind the herd, gripping the straps of her backpack tightly. She walks with a certain maturity, as though she is already grown.

_(But she's only a baby.)_

She should leave. Before anyone notices her. Before she follows through with the mission.

_(But she can't.)_

"Esperanza!"

The girl's head snaps toward the direction of her voice, confusion and concern crossing her face. Her steps slow as she approaches. "Yes?"

Plastering on a smile, she drops to the child's height. "Hi, sweetheart. Your dad asked me to get you—he has to work late tonight, and he doesn't want you to have to wait all alone."

"You work with him?"

She's doubtful, not fully believing this.

"Yes."

Her eyes narrow, just barely, as she judges the validity of the story. Shifting her weight to her right foot, she asks, "Then what does he do?"

"He works with the government." She wants leave it at that, so generic that Esperanza would know something was wrong, but what she wants and what she must do are unrelated. "He studies groups who appear to be a threat to the country."

"What's your name?"

"Alicia." Extending her hand, she stands. "Let's go."

For a brief moment, it seems as though she will run.

_(Please, run. Run as far and as fast as you can.)_

"Okay." Esperanza's hand slips into hers, and it feels so very small within her grasp. "Are we going to your house?"

"Yes," she agrees, struggling to keep an even voice. "But it's kind of a fair walk. Is that alright?"

Nodding, she replies, "I like to walk. Daddy and I walk a lot after he gets home from work. He says it helps him think."

"Do you have a lot of homework?" she asks, needing to get off of this topic because she cannot bear to listen to the life she will soon end.

"Not really—we have a spelling worksheet, and a math page, and some social studies note cards to make. We're learning about the Mayans."

"What have you learned so far?"

The girl immediately launches into details about the culture, swinging her arm as they walk, happy to relate all she knows. Perhaps she's too busy to notice that the houses are getting farther and farther apart, that they're becoming rundown with boarded windows or haphazard front yards. Perhaps it means nothing to her because she's only ten and in her world, there are monsters under the bed and a Boogeyman in her closet but nothing bad can happen when there's an adult by her side.

_(If only she knew what real monsters could look like.)  
_"Are you married?"

The question jolts Jade into reality. "What?"

"Are you married?" she repeats, turning her face upward, eyes blazing with interest, a smile playing on her lips.

Her mind wanders to Roy, the man who hasn't shared a bed with her for over a month because he's Hell-bent on finding the _real_ Roy, the man who's so consumed with his fruitless search that he doesn't even know she's still a Shadow.

"No."

"Are you going to?"

Even obsessed, self-loathing and fighting to find a ghost lost long ago, Roy is still a hero. And she, the woman he claims to love when he's actually home, is leading a little girl to her death.

"I don't think so."

"You will—you're nice."

She steps on a twig. It sounds like a heart breaking.

"We're here," she manages, gesturing to a small house, the one whose FORECLOSED and NO TRESPASSING signs have conveniently disappeared. The walk to the door feels as though it takes a lifetime, and she makes sure Esperanza is the one to open it so that her fingerprints are not present.

"How come it's all-white?" the girl inquires, staring at the walls.

"I haven't gotten around to painting it," she lies. She can't tell the truth, that when the local authorities confiscated it, they removed all signs of humanity by covering it up. "I just moved in yesterday."

"Maybe Daddy can help you. He likes painting."

"I'll ask him." Inhaling deeply through her nose, she continues, "There's a Happy Meal in the kitchen; I figured you would be hungry after school."

"Yay! I love McDonalds!"

"It's probably cold, though," she offers. "And I don't have a microwave yet, so if you don't want it, you don't have to eat it."

_(Don't want it. Please, don't want it.)_

"I don't mind."

As the bile burns her throat, Jade shows the girl to the kitchen, where she immediately grabs the box and starts arranging the contents on the counter. Cheeseburger, fries, Apple Dippers, a princess toy, a NyQuil-laced chocolate milk.

"Are you going to eat anything?" Esperanza asks, taking a large bite of the cheeseburger.

"I'm okay."

Accepting that, she shoves a few fries into her mouth before taking a sip of milk. Once that whole bottle is complete, it should only take ten minutes for Esperanza to fall asleep.

"Do you like polar bears?"

"What?"

"Polar bears," she repeats, as though it is the most natural question in the world. "Do you like them?"

"Sure."

"I love them." She munches on an apple slice. "They're my favorite animal ever. When Daddy takes me to the zoo, we go to their exhibit first. They're so cute and fluffy!" Swirling a second slice in the caramel sauce, she adds, "I'd like to get one, if I could."

"You'd want to buy one? But they need to live in cold places."

"I _know _that, but it would still be so cool. Don't you think?"

"Of course," she answers robotically, mind barely registering the words as it produces an image of she and Artemis as children, before their mother went to prison, before their father began to train them, playing _Alice in Wonderland_. Artemis, of course, was Alice, bright-eyed and curious and so gentle, and she was Cheshire, grinning and teasing and so good at disappearing. And as she sees herself and her sister, chasing each other around the room, jumping from bed to bed, Esperanza appears as well, laughing with them. Because she's just a little kid, like Artemis was.

Like she was.

_(Now she's just Cheshire, still good at disappearing, but the only thing that grins is her mask and she has no one to tease anymore.)_

"Alicia?"

Forcing herself to focus, she turns to Esperanza. "Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I was...I was just thinking, that's all."

"Okay." She rubs her eye, and Jade notices that the chocolate milk has been finished. Wearily, she looks up at her and murmurs, "I like you. Will I get to see you again?"

"Of course."

_(Never again. Because Esperanza will be going to a place full of clouds and angels and light while she will burn, surrounded by fire and hatred and loneliness and right now, she's okay with that. Because the only other alternative is that they will go nowhere, will become nothing, and Esperanza deserves more than that.)_

"Can I show you something?"

"Yes."

Reaching into her backpack, she pulls out a piece of computer paper. In color pencil, two figures are drawn: a small girl and a tall man, holding hands, both smiling. **Esperanza and Daddy** is written at the top. "I drew this after I finished reading my book. Do you think he'll like it?"

"He'll love it," she returns, feeling her eyes burn, and this time, she doesn't have the energy to tell herself it's because of the contacts.

"I'm really tired. Can I lie down somewhere?"

"The moving van is coming tomorrow, so I have no furniture." It disgusts her that she can keep the story straight. "But you can sit down with me."

Legs painfully weak, she walks from the counter and leans against the wall. Esperanza takes a place beside her, head flopping onto her lap.

Steeling her nerves, she reaches into the bag hanging onto her shoulder and takes out the half-full water bottle, loaded with potassium chloride. Tenderly stroking the child's cheek, she whispers, "You're thirty; drink this."

_(Don't. Please, don't.)_

Too tired to protest, the girl obeys. Snuggling closer to her, she mumbles, "Thank you."

Instead of responding, she sings, a lullaby nearly forgotten, her voice barely audible. She wants this to be the last thing Esperanza remembers.

_(And she's selfish and doesn't want to think about the quivers running through her tiny body or the man who just lost his daughter or the fact that Esperanza means _hope_.)_

It only takes a minute for the heart to stop beating, for the blood to cease pumping, but she doesn't leave, she can't leave because it's so cold in this empty, abandoned house and if she leaves, Esperanza will get cold, too. But even though she holds her and keeps singing in a cracked, off-key voice, the little girl loses her warmth, and Jade knows she has to finish this assignment.

Laying the child down, she finds herself walking away. She's not going to her apartment, though, she can't, because Esperanza can't be alone.

The toy store has a wide array of stuffed animals, but it's the polar bear pillow pet she reaches for first. Barely looking at the teen behind the counter, she pays for it and retraces her steps, back to Esperanza.

_(To the body.)_

Kneeling beside the girl, she carefully tucks the bear beside her, her arm wrapped around it, as though she's sleeping.

_(But she's never going to wake up.)_

She almost moves the picture so it's next to her, but she's been trained too well and knows she can't do that. So she leaves everything where it is, gathering the Happy Meal Box and all the garbage and shoving it into her bag so she can dispose of them properly.

Against her instincts, she turns again to Esperanza, seeming so peaceful where she is.

_(Heaven must be peaceful.)_

"I'm sorry," she chokes. "I'm sorry."

She sputters it in all the languages she knows, just in case God is listening, before making the long trek home.

As soon as she steps foot into her crappy apartment, she tosses her bag aside to be destroyed later and enters the crappy bathroom, practically ripping the clothes from her body and turning on the shower as hot as it can go. Under the rain of blazing water, burning her skin like Devil's kisses, she scrubs away the makeup and tears out the contacts and waits for all the blood to be washed away.

_(There's no blood and so much blood at the same time.)_

Skin harsh red, she emerges, dazedly going to her bedroom to pull on clean clothes before eliminating any evidence.

_(Burning, burning, burning. She wonders what that feels like.)_

The door squeaks open, and she stomps out the flames as Roy, shoulders slumped, head hanging, enters. Before he can say anything, she is on top of him, her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, kissing him passionately. Without protest, he returns the affection, leading her to the bed.

She needs to occupy herself with passion, with this primitive lust, because she can't think about souls twirling above the world or hope or grieving fathers or life after death or a God without a face.

_(Because she wants to sleep tonight.)_


End file.
